


Echoes of Stories Never Told

by Theatrical8bit



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Comedy, Could Also Be Referred to As Let Mikleo Say Fuck: the AU, Drama, F/F, Final Fantasy IX AU, M/M, Or Sorey/Rose/Alisha/Anybody No: the AU, Romance, Same Kids Different World, shenanigans abound, we got it, you name it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 20:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11260089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theatrical8bit/pseuds/Theatrical8bit
Summary: It was supposed to be simple. Go in, perform a play, kidnap the princess, get out. But war has been brewing on Gaia, tensions rising between nations as Queen Maltran of Alexandria pushes the boundaries of power, and Princess Alisha makes her move to try and put an end to the queen's madness. Is it still kidnapping if the princess wants to be kidnapped? Is it still kidnapping if the prince followed them? Is it still simple when suddenly, all too suddenly, they're the only barrier between the world and its destruction?Rose thinks they might be in over their heads. Just a bit. But no, she's not gonna say that, she's totally got this. Definitely. Shut up, Mikleo, she's got this.





	Echoes of Stories Never Told

**Author's Note:**

> Finally posting my brainchild that I've been teasing over on Tumblr for a few months. God help me.

Shining sunlight filters past parting clouds, creeping through a large, crystalline window to settle upon Princess Alisha’s face and, rather unfortunately, her eyes. She blinks, rubbing them absently, and stands from her plush bedside chair to open the window proper. Nearby doves scatter from the castle ledge, and she smiles. From the red smattering of town roofs to the greens and greys of the distant fields and mountains, the Alexandrian landscape has always been a comforting sight.

Her fingers tangle through her long blonde hair, brushing it back behind her ear, and a knock at her door startles her. She jumps, fingers catching and knocking her tiara somewhat askew, and from the open door comes a poorly muffled giggle. She turns, a slight frown on her face directed toward the young man at the entryway.

“Sister dear,” he says, laughter still sparking at the ends of his words.

“Brother mine. Scaring me is _not_ funny.” Alisha’s frown shifts into a pout as her cousin, more a brother, strolls into the room, improperly buckled ceremonial sword clacking at his side.

“Perhaps you should be less easy to scare, then.” Quickly pocketing his gloves, he moves his fingers through Alisha’s hair, untangling and readjusting her tiara; his tongue pokes out just slightly in his focus. With a small cheer upon success, he steps back, hands on his hips and a bright grin on his face. Alisha can’t help the return smile that tugs at her lips. She sighs, mimicking his position and leaning forward.

“Oh, Sorey, please. You just need to learn better manners.”

“I knocked!”

“See? You _are_ learning.”

Sorey huffs, crossing his arms, and Alisha chuckles. Rolling her eyes, she moves closer and adjusts the belt around his waist, ensuring that the ceremonial sword is secure. She nods in approval before tapping at his nose, chuckling once more as he twitches backward.

“Why are you here?” she asks.

“I need a reason? How hurtful.” He feigns offense, fist clasped against the cravat at his neck. She shakes her head, amused.

“No, but I am fairly certain that you have one. You should be with General Strelka right now.”

Sorey blinks.

“Oh, right. I mean, I was. With the general. I’m not avoiding patrols, I promise. My patrol will be later. The other Pluto Knights have it covered while the castle prepares to welcome the theatre troupe and—”

“And you came to my room because…?”

“Oh! Yes. Aunt Maltran is asking for you.”

Alisha’s smile falters briefly. She rushes to cover it by glancing downward and dusting off her gown. There’s no need to burden Sorey. Not now.

“Did Mother say what she wanted?”

“One of her soldiers informed me, so I’m afraid I have no clue.”

Alisha sighs. Hopefully, she thinks, it won’t be anything too serious. Her mother has been acting odd, and Alisha has plans that must happen tonight.

“All right, I will make my way there. And Sorey?”

Sorey stops fiddling with the cravat at his neck to glance at her.

“Do not let Mother or General Strelka catch you wearing your cloak with your uniform later.”

“I-I was certainly not planning on—!”

“I know you, Sorey.”

“I will be careful,” he sighs.

“Good.”

***

“Geez, it’s dark,” Rose grumbles, knocking the theatre ship door closed with her hip. “Has the boss never heard of actually lighting lamps or what?” She fumbles forward, hands groping around the familiar, small table for the matches she knows should be there.

“Aha!” she cries, holding a box up in triumph. “Can’t stop ol’ Rose!”

She strikes the match, and the sudden light reveals a pair of violet eyes mere inches away from hers.

“H—”

Rose shrieks, dropping the match and grasping at her sides. Scrambling backwards, she finds and immediately chucks one of her daggers into the darkness. It sticks into the wooden wall with a thunk, and the yelp she hears with the throw is familiar.

“Shit— Rose, it’s just me!” The lamp illuminates, and standing next to the table is an extremely disgruntled-looking Mikleo. Rose relaxes, the tension leaving her with a relieved sigh, before furrowing her brows and jabbing an accusing finger in Mikleo’s direction.

“Why were you just waiting in the dark!?”

“I came in the other door, stupid! Why were you talking to yourself!?”

“Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“What was there to respond to!?”

“I dunno, maybe just a general ‘hey, I’m in here too’ would have sufficed!!”

“I didn’t think I needed to, you knew we were meeting in the next room! Wouldn’t you think there’d be people around!?”

“Who just waits in the dark!?”

“I already said I wasn’t!”

“Can you two shut up!?”

The shout comes with the slamming open of another nearby door, and Dezel stands in the entrance of the storage room, arms crossed and teeth bared. Mikleo covers his face with his hand, grumbling quietly, and Rose shrugs.

“Gimme a hundred gil like I asked last time you yelled at us for fighting and maybe we can,” she says, words and hands flippant as she shoots Dezel a mischievous grin. Dezel sighs, long and sounding far too accustomed to the current antics. His fingers twitch as he pulls the brim of his hat further down his face.

Booming laughter comes from behind the door Mikleo had entered through, and it opens with a loud crack as it’s kicked hard, bouncing off the wall with a clatter to reveal a jovial Eguille with his leg still partially aloft, arms cradling numerous small rolls of parchment. Mikleo grumbles louder.

“Can we not break the doors? Again? Please?” Mikleo’s drawn his hand down to peek through his fingers, annoyance radiating from his stare.

“But you did such a fine job fixing them before,” Eguille replies, tossing one roll to Mikleo, “I’m sure you can do it again. Besides, there’s three other doors in here, breaking one won’t hurt.”

“Uh-huh. So, what is this?” Mikleo asks, looking the paper over before tucking it into his belts.

“Important! And I’ve got one here for you too, Little Boss.” Eguille hands another roll to Rose. She salutes, roll in hand, and it collides with her forehead with a soft crackle.

“Thanks, Boss!”

“Alrighty, into the room. It’s meeting time, Tantalus.” Eguille calls out the latter, voice echoing through the ship as they shuffle into the storage room, where a rather bored-looking Felice and Talfryn are waiting. Rosh waves from the corner of the room, settled comfortably against the wall. On the table is a fairly detailed replica of Alexandria Castle, surrounded by some far less impressive dolls of what Rose thinks are supposed to be members of the royal family. She shoots a questioning look to Mikleo, who only shrugs. Rose nods.

“You’re right. Your sewing would be much better.”

“Hey!” Talfryn stands up, fist balled in front of his chest. “I worked hard on those dolls!”

“And they’re beautiful. Now sit down,” Eguille deadpans, moving to stand behind the mini-castle. “So, you all know the plan, right? I made notes for you, so you can’t say no. We’re going in to perform ‘I Want to Be Your Canary’ for Queen Maltran of Alexandria—” he pauses, holding up the doll of the crimson-haired queen, “and her children, Prince Sorey Fabool Alexandros and Princess Alisha Til Alexandros.” He drops the doll of the queen in favor of picking up the dolls of the prince and princess. “Talfryn, you’re playing lead this time.”

“Don’t ruin my reputation by screwing up the part,” Rose calls across the table. Talfryn sticks his tongue out at her.

“You’re still in part of the play, Rose. Be sure not to ruin your own reputation by screwing up your duel with Dezel.” Eguille lobs the doll of the princess at her. “And what comes after the duel?”

“Kidnap the princess!” Rose waves the doll in her hands before examining it, a sly grin on her lips. “You know, if I didn’t already know that she was a babe and had to figure out what she looked like based on this, I’d be wondering what my motivation for this whole plan is.”

“Make sure you keep her in line, Mikleo,” Eguille sighs, ignoring Rose and Talfryn’s bickering. Mikleo tosses his hands nonchalantly.

“No promises.”

“Yeah, yeah. You remember what you’re doing?”

“Not wearing the oglops, that’s what.”

Eguille rolls his eyes. “They’re just bugs.”

“Gross bugs.”

“What _else_ are you doing?”

“Infiltrating the castle through the western side to meet up with Rose, procuring two sets of armor from the Pluto Knights’ keep, making sure the gross bugs are in the set that Rose is gonna wear, and sneaking into the main hall.”

Eguille nods, placing the doll of the prince on the side of the mini-castle.

“Word has it that the general is having the prince patrol the eastern wing. Shouldn’t be too much of an issue—you won’t need to go over that way. But you have the oglops if you need an emergency distraction.”

“Rose has the oglops.”

“Yes, Mikleo, _Rose_ has the oglops.”

Rose looks up, still fiddling with the princess doll. She makes it wave at Mikleo. “Do I have to?” she asks. “This is the worst distraction idea.”

“We don’t have time to think of a new one,” Eguille says. With a snap of his fingers, the members of Tantalus stand at attention. “It’s showtime, kids. Get moving!”

The floor echoes with a simultaneous stomp, and with a firm salute, everyone scatters.

***

The sharp clacks of heels echo on the marble tile in the hall near the royal chambers, and Alisha turns to see Maltran approach, the skirts of her gown trailing behind her. She bows.

“Mother.”

“Alisha. Come now, we must not be late.”

Alisha hesitates as Maltran starts toward the balcony, eyes darting toward her own room. Her mother’s guards are gone, stationed on the balcony itself, and she has everything set.

“Is…Sorey going to be sitting with us?”

Without pausing her stride, Maltran laughs lightly. “No. He has a duty to fulfill for General Strelka and the knights. If you recall, this play is to honor _your_ birthday.”

Alisha frowns, her teeth catching the corner of her lip. “My birthday was months ago.”

Maltran stops, placing one hand on her hip and still facing the exit. “Actors are often so busy, love, when you want to hire the good ones. Now be a good girl and come take your seat. I took every measure to ensure they would perform your favorite.”

Alisha nods, her fingernails digging into the satin of her dress as she follows her mother outside. There’s a tremble in her jaw that she bites back, chin held high as she walks through the double doors. After the first act, she moves. She prepares. She’s gone. It’s for the better, she thinks, gaze locked on Maltran’s back. It’s for her mother. For Alexandria.

The orchestra strikes a bright tune, and a tall, costumed man takes the stage to open the play as Alisha takes her seat behind Maltran, avoiding the questioning gaze of General Strelka from his vigil near the queen’s chair. She smiles, brief and reassuring, and turns her attention toward the stage.

She just hopes Sorey will forgive her for leaving him behind.

***

Amidst the cheers of the audience, Rose scrambles down the path past the stage, pretending to be chasing after Dezel as their segment ends the second act. She claps a hand on his shoulder before ducking and rolling through the bushes toward the western tower. She springs up, face smug. She can still hear the crowd cheering after their duel, demands for an encore she’d happily have given if Dezel hadn’t shot it down. As long as the princess was impressed, she’d be content.

Inside the tower, she finds Mikleo sitting casually on a table, legs crossed and swinging idly, two sets of armor on the chair and two unconscious knights in the corner. Rose snorts.

“Did they even have a chance to put up a fight?” she asks.

“I’m sneaky. Let’s hurry up and get changed, you already went two minutes over what we planned. Were you doing those flips again for the swordfight?”

“Nnnnnoooooooo.” Rose blinks innocently, hands clasped in front of her, and Mikleo sighs.

“Whatever. Still got the sleeping weed Rosh gave you?”

Rose pats her pocket as she starts stepping into her disguise. “Yep. You got the oglops?”

Mikleo wrinkles his nose, a disgusted sound escaping his throat as he points to a wriggling bag in the far corner.

“Hey, at least you don’t gotta wear ‘em. That bag’s gonna be wiggling between my chest and the armor.” Rose shudders. “This better be worth it.”

“I dunno. This helmet reeks,” Mikleo says, recoiling somewhat from the old metal.

“Suck it up. I’ll share the oglops with you if you’d like that instead.”

“No, thank you,” Mikleo hisses, taking a few steps away from Rose for safety. “Let’s just get moving. You go make the princess her tea while I watch the main hall.”

They break with a lazy salute, splitting in the hall to their respective positions.

Watching the main hall, Mikleo finds, is a lot easier than expected. The only sounds are distant echoes from the stage and the occasional resonant clinks from the kitchen. Not a single knight strides through. The patrol must be heavier outside. A dumb move, but advantageous for them. He trails a hand along the sleek banister of the main staircase.

“Ivory-coated. Fancy.”

With his job being more or less covered by the incompetence of the Alexandrian knights, Mikleo figures he can step back a bit and appreciate the architecture while he waits for Rose. He hasn’t had many (or any) opportunities to see the inside of the castle. It’s one thing to read about it. It’s another to see it.

“Huh. The castle design is distinctly thirteenth century, but the archways specifically have an even more antique flair to them. I wonder why?”

“Oh, I could answer that!”

Mikleo starts at the voice that rings above him, and he looks up to see a patrolman leaning over the railing of the right pathway, grin on his face clear even from the distance.

“It is an interesting situation, you see,” the patrolman begins, the clicks from his boot heels reverberating, “there are some parts of this castle that are actually much older! What we know as Alexandria Castle now was not all built at once, and…”

The man continues his explanation, his speech loud and energetic as he descends the stairs. His hair is brown, a bit messy, his clothes are much nicer than the average hired knight would wear (although the cloak he’s wearing over them looks pretty average), and as he rounds the corner, a ceremonial sword can be seen bouncing at his side. Mikleo’s thought process, already in overdrive from trying to figure out how to get away from a knight that shouldn’t have been around, comes to a screeching halt.

“…so they built what is now considered the main castle around the old tower, and…”

This is the prince. Mikleo blinks. This is the prince, and Mikleo needs to go, _now_.

“…so the archways, as you were wondering about, were modeled after that tower for a sense of unity in design.” The prince stops in front of him, and Mikleo can now see the exuberance in the prince’s voice matches the excited shine in his bright green eyes. Under normal circumstances, Mikleo thinks, he would be incredibly interested in this conversation.

“My apologies for not recognizing you. I had heard that the general hired a few new knights, but I have yet to meet them due to all the preparations for the play. I’m a bit surprised that you have already been fitted for your armor! …Though not well, I see. It seems a bit big. I shall request for another fitting, and—Oh! Please, excuse my manners. I haven’t introduced myself.” The prince bows. “I am Sorey, prince and member of the Knights of Pluto. Might I ask your name?”

These are not normal circumstances. Shouting and the distant clanking of armor comes from the direction of the hall Sorey came from.

“Huh? I was just over there, what could be—”

Sorey starts back toward the stairs, and Mikleo bolts.

“Huh!? H-Hey, wait! There is nothing to worry—! Don’t run away! I still want to talk—!”

Sorey gives chase.

Losing Sorey through twists and turns, Mikleo, unseeing as he starts to run upstairs, collides with another person.

“Ack!?”

“Aah!!”

He glances up to see a cloaked figure bow to him quickly.

“I’m sorry!” the figure says, voice feminine and more than a little panicked. The figure darts past him, and as soon as he gets to his feet, another person slams into his back.

“What the—!?”

“Get going, Mik! That was the princess!” Rose shouts, hands on Mikleo’s shoulders to steady them both.

“That was what!?”

“Ugh, you’re useless!”

Rose shoves Mikleo aside, running after the cloaked presumably-princess. Mikleo blinks.

“There you are!” a voice rings from behind, and Mikleo whirls around to see the prince. “What’s wro—”

Mikleo bolts once more.

***

Rose stumbles over cracks and cobblestone as she chases the princess through halls, around corners, outside and back in, and she considers it either a miracle or a possible conspiracy that they haven’t passed a guard yet. They whirl up the eastern tower and circle its top, and Rose swears she can hear the princess laughing over the crowd and the play. On their third lap, the princess climbs on top of the ledge, and Rose freezes.

“Uh, okay, Your Highness, let’s not do anything rash now.”

The wind whips her cloak around, billowing out the hood and giving Rose her first good look at the princess’s face. Talfryn’s doll definitely did not do her justice. A wide smile stretches across the princess’s lips, green eyes glittering with mischief.

“That’s not safe, you know! We’re super high up! What if you fall? Just come on down and—”

Princess Alisha tips backward.

“Hey!!”

Her laughter rings out again as Rose pitches herself across the ledge to look down, and suddenly the princess is flying, swinging from a rope of flags toward the theatre ship.

Across the way, Mikleo emerges at the top of the western tower. He leans on the ledge, catching his breath as the lights from the ship shimmer below. Judging by the current soliloquy warbling from the stage, they’re getting close to the end. He really hopes Rose caught up with the princess. And that they can get to the ship and go without being caught and promptly executed. He hears a clatter and looks toward the eastern tower.

“Oh, hey, there’s Rose—”

“Who?”

Mikleo spins to see Sorey behind him once more, looking around curiously.

“(Shit…!)” Mikleo scrambles backward, looking for an out as Sorey raises his hands in front of him.

“Hey, wait, I just want to talk!”

Mikleo stops when he sees Rose leap from the tower and slide along a rope (impressively strong for a simple pennant rope, he thinks), and glancing below, the cloaked princess swings through the air on its end. Suddenly, Sorey is next to him.

“Wow, they’re letting people board the theatre ship?” Sorey asks, the excitement returning to his voice. “That's incredible! Hey, um, sir new knight whose name I will be certain to learn, do you think it is safe to swing down like they did? You seemed to know one of them?"

Mikleo tilts his head, staring incredulously at the prince as he tugs on another pennant rope, his hand on his chin as he taps his cheek, pondering.

“H-Hey,” Mikleo starts, reaching a hand out, “no, I don’t think—”

"This rope seems sturdy enough!” Sorey grins, winding a bit of the rope loosely around his wrist. “Rather unorthodox just to board, but if other people are doing it, there’s no harm in following. I just hope the other knights don't see me... And I hope you decide to come on the ship, too! Or, well, decide to keep this a secret between us if you don’t. I know my attire is probably a bit intimidating—all my 'princely' outfits feel stuffy, it's why I'm wearing this cloak—but I really did want to talk to you about history and the like!"

Sorey scans the crowd as he plants a foot on the tower ledge.

"W-Wait a sec—!" Mikleo’s eyes widen, and his panicked gaze swaps between Rose swinging toward the theatre ship and the prince in front of him.

"Oh no, I can see General Strelka from here, so odds are he could spot me if he looks... Now or never, then. It was nice meeting you!"

"Hey, don't—!"

Sorey leaps down and Mikleo stares, eyes still wide and mouth ever-so-slightly slack-jawed. The cogs in his mind creak, reviewing. That was the prince. The prince just jumped onto his ship. That the princess has also jumped onto, though seemingly not to the prince’s knowledge. Both royal siblings are now on his ship. This was not part of the plan.

Cursing under his breath, Mikleo follows suit.

***

On the queen’s balcony, the jester approaches the general, a sway to his hips and a sneer on painted lips as he raises his chin.

“Oh Sergeiiiii, I told you the princess was in trouble at least ten minutes ago and you’re still here?” the jester asks, dry amusement piercing through each word. General Strelka closes his eyes, taking a noticeably deep breath before answering.

“And I sent my men out to search for any sign of trouble, Lunarre. What else do you want?” Sergei glowers at the jester, not bothering to hide his annoyance. The queen, still calmly perched in her chair and watching the show, seems undisturbed by Lunarre’s claims. Why should Sergei worry, then?

“Nothing much,” Lunarre says, arms folded casually behind his head as he stares toward the stage, a bored expression overtaking his sneer. “Just for someone to take me seriously for once.”

“If we took you seriously, Jester, you would be out of a job. Now let me do mine.”

Lunarre’s sneer returns, sharper as it twists around his words. “Right. Do your job, General. Have fun standing here watching.”

Sergei continues his vigil, Queen Maltran remains unaffected, and Lunarre, his gaze flicking to the otherwise unnoticed chaos atop both side towers, snickers quietly and decides to wait and watch the show.

***

Alisha lands on the ship, quickly running through and past the orchestra. She utters apologies as she knocks their instruments in her rush. Without the counterweight, Rose tumbles as the rope goes slack, crashing next to the already-frazzled orchestra, who simply gives her curious looks.

“This,” she groans, “was not part of the plan.”

Before she has a chance to recover, a foot skids somewhat painfully across her ribs as the princess leaps over her, the previous route having led to a dead end.

“Rose,” the cymbalist says, still looking curiously, “the princess is gettin’ away from ya. If that was the princess. Did ya get the princess?”

Rose just groans again in lieu of a response. She hauls herself to her feet and barrels through the far door in time to see the princess emerge from the prop closet and bump into Felice as she comes up the stairs. She hears another apology from Alisha before she rushes downstairs.

“Hey! Who the hell…!” Felice turns, her eyes locking on Rose. “Little Boss! The hell was that!? No manners, I tell you…”

“Sorry! Princess! I’ll explain later!”

“You’re calling me a princess or _that_ was the princess—Hey! You get back here, too!”

Rose shoves her way past Felice, darting down the stairs to the storage room where she sees the princess standing still. For which, Rose is thankful. Tag was never her favorite game; Mikleo could usually outrun her.

“Hey,” Rose pants, her pace slowing as she nears Alisha. “When I said I’d never let someone as pretty as you get away, you weren’t supposed to take that as a challenge.”

“My apologies,” Alisha says, still facing away. “Do you work on this theatre ship…? You are not one of our knights, so…” she asks, turning around slowly. Her eyes glimmer cautious in the lamplight, and Rose rubs the back of her head sheepishly.

“You caught me.”

A smile crosses Alisha’s face as she draws two delicate fingers along the edges of her hood. “As you suspected,” she begins, tugging the hood down to fully reveal her face, her loose blonde curls bouncing with her movement, “I am Princess Alisha Til Alexandros, heir to the throne of the kingdom of Alexandria, and if I may be so bold, I have a favor to ask of you, actress.” She steps forward, drawing one of Rose’s hands into both of her own, her hold gentle yet firm, and locks her gaze with widened blue eyes. “I need you to kidnap me,” she states, her stare intense and imploring, “right away.”

“U-Um? Well, I mean—!” Rose feels her cheeks flush and breaks her stare, frantically looking around for Mikleo or Dezel or _someone_. This was the plan, sort of, but she never expected that the princess would _want_ to be kidnapped. A doorknob rattling shakes her out of her stupor, and Alisha quickly tosses her hood back over her face.

“Please!” Alisha says, fist clenched against her chest in worry. “They’ve come for me.”

With a quick exhale, Rose grins brightly. “Leave ‘em to me,” she says, hand placed on her hip, casual and confident. Alisha smiles in turn.

“You have my gratitude.” Relief resonates through Alisha’s soft words. Rose bows deeply before taking a knee, arm folded across her chest in a salute.

“Alright, Your Highness! I shall hereby do my best to kidnap you!”

The storage room door bursts open and Alisha yelps, scrambling behind a still-kneeling Rose. Rosh stands in the doorway, arms crossed.

“No worries, Princess.” Rose stands, laughing lightly as Alisha clings to her arm. “That’s just Rosh. He’s scary, but he’s one of us.”

Rosh’s bottom lip juts out ever so slightly, and the doorknob rattles again.

“Come on. This way.”

Rosh waves his hand, beckoning them into the room and closing the door as they rush inside. He shoves the table aside, sending Talfryn’s dolls sliding across the floor, and opens a hatch beneath.

“After you, Your Highness, Little Boss.”

He watches as they climb down and, with the sounds of footsteps clambering down the stairs, slams the hatch closed as the storage door is kicked open, his dagger drawn.

“Where’s Rose!?”

Rosh raises an eyebrow as Mikleo’s frazzled form registers in his mind and slides his dagger back in its sheath.

“She just went down below with the princess. Why are you—”

“Cool, thanks, Rosh!”

Mikleo rushes past him, yanking the hatch open and jumping down. Rosh’s bottom lip once more juts out ever so slightly.

Outside the crossway room, Sorey frowns.

“I guess it’s locked… Back up to the deck, then. I wonder how close I am to the stage?”

Beneath the hatch, Alisha deftly scales down the airship machinery to the walkway, Rose following quickly behind. Rose whistles as she lands, swiping her hand across her forehead.

“Wow. You got some moves there, Princess. I think I’m falling for ya.” She winks, and Alisha shrugs, unfazed.

“I have been training to escape the castle, you know. This is nothing.”

“Not nothing! A waste of good talent, though.” Rose sighs, arms aloft in a lazy shrug of her own. “If only you weren’t a princess…”

“I’ll waste my talent continuing to run, thank you,” Alisha retorts, already making her way further down into the engine room. “We’ve no time to sit and chat.”

They race past the engine, down the walkways, and Alisha skids to a halt as she enters another storage room, no door in sight.

“Um…!?”

Rose rushes up next to her and opens her mouth to respond when clanging footsteps sound from behind them, echoing off the wood in their rapid approach. Both whirl back to the door as Mikleo barrels inside.

“A knight!?” Alisha moves behind Rose, her hand twitching toward the sheathed weapon on her back. Rose shakes her head.

“Nah, he's one of ours, too,” she says. She pouts at Mikleo, brows furrowed, as he rushes up toward her.

“Rose, we've got a problem—!” He reaches out to grab her shoulder when she jabs a finger in his face.

“No, Mik, _we’ve_ got a problem! There are knights coming that _you_ were supposed to keep away; we gotta go! Head that way, Princess!” Rose nudges Alisha toward the back of the room, head whipping around for any sign of a threat.

“Huh?” Mikleo looks around, confused. He knows he wasn’t followed—he’s the one that did the following. “No, that's not—!!”

“And good god, get these oglops off me! I wore them for nothing!” Rose starts to yank at the chest plate and Mikleo shudders, holding his hands out in a feeble attempt to stop her.

“Rose, wait! I'm trying to—!”

“Be free, you hellbeasts!”

Leather snaps, the armor falls away, and the bag containing the oglops bursts as it hits the ground. Mikleo violently recoils, jumping away and toward the direction Alisha headed. His feet skitter across the floor as he dodges the errant insects, a screech caught in his throat.

“Out. Out!” Mikleo shouts, carefully moving past Alisha to shove an empty bookshelf aside, revealing a door. “Let’s go!” He ushers the girls through the door, scrambling through and slamming it shut once they enter. An oglop starts to wiggle through the crack and he kicks at it, shivering briefly. He glares at Rose. “Was that really necessary!?”

“Yes! Do you think I _wanted_ to wear those gross-ass—” The sounds of metal groaning and wood creaking cut off Rose’s retort, and the indignation brimming in her eyes is immediately replaced with panic. Mikleo looks much the same, and Alisha looks concerned.

“What…is going on here?” Alisha asks, stepping closer to Rose as the creaking grows louder.

“We’re, uh, getting out, Princess. Hope you’re good at improv.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

With a nod to each other, Mikleo and Rose split off to two corners.

“On here, Princess!” Rose calls, beckoning Alisha over.

“Where are we going? And what does being good at ‘improv’ have to do with it!?”

The platforms start to ascend, voices booming from the stage above. A hatch opens above them, and Alisha begins to think that perhaps she should have just kidnapped herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Go play FF9, y'all.
> 
> Now I can't promise any consistent schedules because I'm about to start my thesis for grad school. I can, however, direct you to the tag for this series over on my tumblr (8bittheatrics(.)tumblr(.)com/tagged/the-big-damn-ff9-au) to keep you entertained while I'm gone. There are miscellaneous draft scenes posted there along with links to the massive skype draft doc that has a bunch of scenes scattered throughout. It's like 500 pages. I'm not kidding. Some people have managed to read through the entire thing. Those people are heroes.


End file.
